St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1887-04-19
PLAIN JIM JON ES.

Jim Jones. 1 know it's common lame,
But that's what his war,
An the Harolds an Osrics of story books
Couldn't tech that chap nowhar-
For ingrained game an gallantry
An pluck! Why, pard see var
But the story's old, an L m out O. sorts
When l think of good, great Jim.
Ask old Snake Sam in the corner thar
He'll tell We all bout him.
1 was kinder stuck on the boy, you know
Yes; this left eyes a trife dim.
All right. I'll tell We the story straight,
But in jobs of this kim I'm not au fait-
Is that kerrect? Long years ago,
When went ter school, / ulster know.
When Jim KEN hyar to Pizen Flat
From the Eastern states-yer laugh at that;
The liquor was pizen, you'd allow,
But the articles better we're keepin' now.
Don't keer eff do)
Wal, this yere Jim
Was Ornery, long-legged, bony. an slim,
An lived by himself up above the mill,
With his nearest neighbor at Half-Mile hill.
Years passed by-no better nor wuSS;
None seemed to notice the selfish cuss.
At the time we thought him burned fool,
But the preacher allus held Sunday school
At Jim's cabin when he cum 'roun'.
Months would lapse fore he struck the town,
Then the gulches and canyons would all re-
SCUM
With sech songs as I'm Glad Salvation s
Free
An that other one: lover the Jasper Sea-
''Pooty good liquor?' Snake knows his biz
All the boys shet down on his pizen:
But with the improvement the price was riz,
An continers ter keep a-rizin.
Oh, yes. One day Jim struck payin' dirt
The boys all thought so. Thet thar billed shirt,
SEARCHED up stiff, an them high-heeled
boots
We felt sort O. sneekin, us galoots.
An he walked as straight as railroad king
With Katie Simms-on her finger ring.
As they passed the bar we pulled our hats
(kate was the only gal in lhe FlalsC.
The boys were mad, ser kin stake yer pile,
An swore vengeanced for quite while.
An vowed they'd lay that Jim on the shelf. ,
yer see, each he'd bin cuttln' fer Kate
hisself.)
But 'twasn't long fore trouble rose.
Kate was gal that liked good clothes,
An a minin' camps Tot jist Their place
Ter look for elergance, style and grace.
A writin' chap from Frisco came
One day ter the camp. Eli? Darn his name
His tongue was slick us his glossy hair,
An Kate was caught in the glitterin' snare
That's all. The old, old story. 1 fear
The remainder we wouldn't like to hear.
"Go on" All right. IN cut it short
It's what with the wind O. that skunk I ort
Tne Teller KEEP hangin' roun' Their camp,
Eff we'd know'd his game we'd dimmed his
lamp!
She gave Jim his ring an in its stead
diamond from Frisco turned her head.
Kate KEEP in the house an blush of shame
Would flush her cheek as the miners came
Home from the gulch, while the writin' chap
Lay with his smilin face in her lap,
Twas noticed the gal KEEP out o. sight
An 'casionally only, an lhat at night,
They'd take walk in the dim starlight.
This looked sorter 'spicious, an at last
All eyes on the stranger to onct was cast.
He smeled rat!-the tarnal houn'!
An high nor low he couldn't be fouu'.
But the sun next mornin', risin' from sleep,
Looked down on his corp-a mangled heap:
In runnin' away he slipped an fell
Headong from Dead Mans cliff to-wellI
The babe was buried beneath the trees
Down yonder, an when the evenin breeze
On Sundays blows DER them flowers rare
Kate with her tear-wet eyes goes there.
Jim bekem reckless an took ter booze,
An'-now he's asleep on his final snooze.
EDWARD DILLON.